


The Good Man

by White_Noise



Series: The Casualty of War Series [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Civil War (Marvel), T'Challa's POV, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 14:36:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7365442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/White_Noise/pseuds/White_Noise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As heir to the throne of Wakanda, T'Challa had been to many funerals in his lifetime, from the funerals of officials to his father to those of elders of the various Wakandan tribes. Some of those funerals had been joyful. A celebration of a life. Others had been full of wailing and tears as the various family and friends refused to accept the inevitability of death. None of them had been like Stark's.</p><p>Tony's funeral and it's aftermath. </p><p>Prequel to 'A Reply'</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Good Man

Tony Stark’s funeral was unlike anything T'Challa had ever been to before. As heir to the throne of Wakanda, he had been to many funerals in his lifetime, from the funerals of officials to his father to those of elders of the various Wakandan tribes. Some of those funerals had been joyful. A celebration of a life. Others had been full of wailing and tears as the various family and friends refused to accept the inevitability of death. None of them had been like Stark's.

The closest T'Challa could compare it to would be his own father’s funeral. The funeral of King T'Chaka had been similar in its somber tone, in the quiet grief of the mourners. And yet, somehow it was still so different.

Sitting on the hard bench in the quite room where the coffin had been placed, T'Challa found himself looking around at the modern yet simple interior, the focus of the room, the dark wooden coffin. 

For an American hero, the coffin was surprisingly bare. A few framed photographs surrounded it and resting alone on the top, the clear light of the miniature Arc Reactor. 

One of the young men employed to assist the funeral procession had tried to drape an American flag over the coffin, only for a red haired woman to storm up to him and angrily pull it off again. 

The teenage employee had tried to explain that it was the protocol for the flag to be there, an honour for a dead hero. 

The woman, Miss Potts, had almost growled at the young man, throwing the flag onto the front pew in her anger. Rounding on the poor, frightened man, she had exclaiming that they were not honouring a dead hero, they were here for a friend. The boy had retreated, and Miss Potts had been dragged away from the coffin, tears rolling down her cheeks, by her body guard Mr Hogan. 

Instead, another trembling employee had placed the reactor on the coffin, shooting terrified glances towards the woman before retreating. 

Unlike the flag, the reactor had been left on the coffin. It was fitting in a way. The Arc Reactor had been Tony’s crowning achievement, possibly even more so then Iron Man, then Vision, then anything else the genius had created. 

The ceremony had been quick and quiet. There was no mention of god, no mention of Iron Man. Just small stories of Tony's life and mentions of his achievements. The phrase "a good man" had been uttered many times. 

T'Challa that felt it was fitting. He hadn't known Stark long but even he could see the goodness in the man. A man who had once described himself as nothing but the occasional PR and tech support of the Avengers, Yet had still stood up and made his voice heard. A man who had done everything he could to save lives, without thought for his own safety. A man who had stood up against the might of a Super Soldier and refused to back down, even when death could have been the outcome, simply because he believed in something. A man who had the makings of a brilliant politician, yet chose to be a hero instead.

Like T'Challa, the few people present had nodded, knowing in their hearts, the truth. 

There were few mourners. For a man who had been surrounded by people his whole life, it was sad how few people were here to say goodbye. The absence of a certain soldier was like a gaping wound that no one knew how to heal. 

In front, Miss Potts and Mr Hogan had sat with Colonel Rhodes and Vision, as chief mourners. In the pew behind them, sat a man who had been introduced to T'Challa as Doctor Banner. The man had seated himself in the corner of the pew and sat with an air of quiet misery surrounding him, his head bowed.

A few pews down sat a small family, a woman and her three children. These, T'Challa knew, was the Barton family, Hawkeye's wife and children. 

T'Challa had been surprised to see them here, thinking that Agent Barton's current statues as a fugitive may have kept the family away but it seemed Laura Barton did not share here husband’s ideals and at least, could honour the man her children called Uncle. 

Another boy sat in the pew opposite, with another middle aged woman. T'Challa didn't have to be introduced to know who this was. He only had to look at the lanky teen to be reminded of the young hero who had fought at their side on the airstrip in Germany. 

The young Mr Parker spent most of the funeral with his face against his aunt’s shoulder, muffling his sobs. The boy had lost a good mentor in Tony Stark.

Behind the pews, at the back door to the building, Agent Romanov had stood with another man. T'Challa had overheard Miss Potts greet the two, calling the man Phil.

He must have been a friend of Tony's as despite the venom in Miss Potts voice during the greeting, the man had been allowed to stay.

Many people would have thought it strange that this was Stark's funeral. The man had always appeared larger than life, a showman ready to wow those around him. But as T'Challa had learnt, that had been far from the truth. 

The Tony Stark he had known, while not a quiet man, had been an honest one. He had always gone his best to protect his friends and those he considered family, even when the danger had been himself. 

T’Challa had sat on the hard pew, listening to Colonel Rhodes relive a story of his MIT days with his friend, Miss Potts tell one of her many tales about the billionaire, Mr Hogan recall how his boss had been his friend. 

Even Mrs Barton had spoken, her five word story “Tony Stark fixed our tractor.” had made everyone smile. 

All these stories washed over the King and he found himself wishing he had gotten to know the man outside of their alliance for the Accords. He felt like he and Stark would have been great friends. 

No one mentioned the Avengers. No one mentioned the people who should have been here to say goodbye. No one mentioned the soldier who Tony had thought the world of, who couldn’t even be here for this final journey.

T’Challa tried not to think about it. 

He had left the final copy of the Accords with Captain Rogers, the one which had included the revision stating that the fugitive Avengers were being pardoned. The revision that meant they could come home. 

He had hoped, when he had handed it to the Captain that the man would swallow his pride and read it, understand it and go home.

From what he had heard, both from the other Avengers and from what Tony had implied when T’Challa had visited the man in his workshop the night before the fatal attack, there had been more going on between them then just friendship. T’Challa couldn’t believe that Steve would purposely avoid the funeral if he knew he could attend. 

T’Challa had thought about contacting the Captain and his people, still hidden in his palace to inform them of the pardon but he was tired. So tired. 

He had spent so long since his father’s death, trying to hold everything together. The hunt for the Winter Soldier, the unravelling of Zemo’s plot, hiding the former heroes and working through Tony’s murder. He was no longer willing to be in the middle of all this. 

Rogers needed to do some of the work now and if his anger at the Accords and refusal to read them had prevented him from returning to say goodbye to his friend, T’Challa refused to take responsibility anymore. 

There were many things Rogers would no doubt regret about his actions and T’Challa was not going to shoulder this one for him, not when he had his own. 

The funeral had concluded like it had started, with very little fanfare. 

The mourners had been invited up to the coffin to say their final goodbye before it had been taken away to be cremated. Tony’s ashes were to be handed to Miss Potts to be released into the sea from his property in Malibu.

T’Challa, along with the rest of the mourners had been invited back to the Avengers Compound for a drink and the reading of the will. 

It had surprised the King to find that he had been included in the genius’s will, despite their short acquaintance. The genius must have updated it in the few days before his untimely death.

In death, Tony Stark had proved to be as generous as he had been in life. 

His MIT scholarship program would be continually funded after his death. Collage funds had also been arranged for all three “Mini Agent Barton’s”, Mr Parker and a Mr Harley Keener as well as Scott Lang’s daughter. A considerable amount had also been left to Miss Maximoff, should she chose to study. Most of Stark’s property had been left to Miss Potts, Mr Hogan and Colonel Rhodes and documents had been left to Vision for him to create a real identity outside of the Avengers, should he want to. Doctor Banner had been left most of Tony’s un-published research and several of his unfinished projects. A few more of the completed ones had been left to Agent Romanov. 

What had been left to T’Challa had surprised him. The patent for the B.A.R.F technology, a way to pull hidden memories and work through trauma.

T’Challa had been aware of the technology ever since Tony had unveiled it at the MIT lecture shortly before the Accords. His scientists had talked endlessly about it in relation to SGT Barnes’ healing process and even attempted to replicate it, with little success. 

Ideally, they had wanted their King to contact Stark about it, to ask for its use. But T’Challa had hesitated. Tony had been a good man but asking him to hand over his prized technology to help a man who had tried to kill him would have been like a knife in the back. T’Challa didn’t want to put that pressure on the man while the wounds were still raw. 

But it was clear now that Tony had the same idea. 

It just went to show what sort of man Tony Stark had been.

The last and most surprising piece of the will had been the ownership of the Compound, to be handed over to the Avengers as a home and training ground for any and all heroes. 

Somehow, Tony had still believed to the end in the Avengers, at least enough to ensure that there would always be a place for them. 

Agent Romanov had accepted this request on the Avengers behalf, accepting the documents to the property as it was handed over. 

The reading had been concluded and everyone had gone their separate ways, some leaving for their homes while others stayed in the Compound, lost in private reflection.

T’Challa had sent his bodyguards away, taking Tony’s gift with them. 

He would soon be leaving for Wakanda now that everything was finished but there was still work to do. 

Still, T’Challa found himself taking the time to walk through the Compound, trying to imagine it as it had been when the Avengers had lived here. 

Almost unconsciously, he found himself walking downstairs. 

He had been here only once, the night before the final signing and its fatal end. 

When he had first arrived in the US and Vision had invited him to the Compound, the King had been hesitant. Still, he had gone and made small talk with the lone Avenger before heading down to Tony’s work shop to see the man. 

Even as he stepped into the silent room, he could almost see it, the last time he had seen Tony before his death. 

The man had looked like hell when T’Challa had arrived, hunched over a work bench, writing something on a piece of paper. Still baring the injuries of the confrontation and fighting back his own exhaustion, the man had been almost dead on his feet when he had turned to greet the king. 

Their conversation had been short and to the point, mainly about the Accords and what to expect the next day. The whereabouts of the rogue Avengers had been hinted at but never addressed, Tony not wanting to confirm where they were and T’Challa refusing to say anything to compromise his country. 

Then, finally, Tony had asked the King a favour. 

Folding the pieces of paper he had been writing on, the man had slipped them into an envelope and pulled out a cardboard box. Placing it on the bench with the letter, the genius turned to the King. 

“It’s for the Captain.” He had said, looking to the King. “He doesn’t have a return address but somehow, I feel like you might cross paths with him.”

The genius had smiled at that. A small smile but one none the less. 

T’Challa had nodded, knowing that Tony would understand his agreement to the request. 

They had then parted ways, T’Challa to return to his hotel to prepare for the next day and Tony back to his work. As T’Challa had left, he had turned in time to see the genius place his hand on the box, lost in thought. 

Entering the work shop for the second time, T’Challa had found little change since the death. The room was warm, crowded and full of the faint noise of machinery, the box still where Tony had left it on the bench.

Walking forward, T’Challa made his way to the box. The envelope was resting on top, a name written on it in Tony’s handwriting. 

Remembering his unspoken promise, T’Challa carefully picked up the box, tucking it under his arm. 

Turning, the King left the work shop, letting the lights turn off behind him as he fulfilled a final promise to a good man.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, now I am a little gobsmacked with the response from all this. I expected when I first started to get a few people angry at me for killing Tony and making Steve suffer but no, everyone seems to enjoy this slightly sadistic ride I am putting us through. 
> 
> I don't really have anything else to say that I haven't already said in other stories except I am loving everyone's support and the ideas people are sending me are fantastic. I love hearing everything!
> 
> I am thinking of doing one more piece but not sure where this is going to go or how many more stories there will be because I don't really have an end-game here that won't involve multi-chapter stories and I have been binge watching Avengers Assemble (Any Stony shippers, get on this show!) so my angst over everything is finally fading for my love of these 2 idiots. I guess we will just have to wait and see.


End file.
